Meeting a Dead End
by Irith Ayllistira
Summary: Flynn Rider is offered the ultimate mission. The catch? Be rewarded with enormous piles of money. The mission? Climb tower, kidnap and kill the Lost Princess. Epic, tragic, romantic and surprising
1. Prologue

**Meeting a Dead End**

Prologue

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><p>The air smelled of damp wood, smoke and wine.<br>Underneath a dim lantern, Flynn Rider slowly sipped his beer, careful enough to not let his eyes wander past the dark cloaked man that had been watching him for the last few minutes.

After all, being who he was, Flynn was getting accostumed to _knives in the dark._

The thief waited until most of the men in the tavern had passed out or were too drunk to discern whispering. He slowly made his way to the stranger's table and sat down, looking around to see if anyone had noticed their acknowledgement.

"You have news for me" said Flynn tossing over a coin purse. The stranger picked up the small velvet bag and looked inside, making the coins slide between his fingers.

"I do" he replied and leaned over the table "I've found _something_ much more valuable than the crown."

"There's nothing more valuable than that crown" countered Flynn, smirking "You know what it's worth."

The man nodded and took a sip of his drink, a dark, reddish liquor that Flynn never saw before.

"I know what it's worth, Rider. But I am telling you: what I've found is far more valuable than a hundred crowns together."

Intrigued, Flynn leaned back in his chair. He looked around again, reassuring their discretion.

"If that object were as valuable as you say, you would have fetched it for yourself already."

"I knew you would think that" the man smlied again and leaned over the table, indicating the thief to mimic his gesture. "Alas, the thing I want you to find is not an object. And it's protected by the most powerful sorcery."

"It's not...an object?" asked Flynn Rider, wondering what could be more valuable than a gem or a pearl necklace "Then... what is it?"

"It's a girl."

Rider didn't answer, looking at the informer as if the man had gone nuts. A question formed in his mind and with a cocky smile, he let it slip out his throat: "What kind of girl can be more valuable than the crown of the lost princess?"

"The lost princess herself."

Flynn didn't believe the man at first. He looked at his features, trying to figure out if he was lying or telling the truth: after all, as a professional thief as he was, he was accostumed to discern wether a man was just being awfully cocky or simple speaking honestly. To his desmise, he understood that the man truly knew where was the princess.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. I will NOT go on a mission like that" he concluded, shrugging at the thought. What kind of monsters and hideous mechanisms could be guarding a princess that was being tracked down for eighteen years?

"Of course you will." replied the stranger "Rider, gold always moved you. And there's an awful amount of gold waiting for you if you bring the princess back."

"No amount of gold is worth my life" said Rider, balancing his chair. He didn't exclude the option completely – he was still thinking of the risks, listing mentally the equipment and supplies he would need for such a trip.

And then he thought about the gold – piles and piles of gold that he could spend on good wine, good clothing and good company. Oh, the dream of a man that had always searched for wealth and could find none! If he accomplished that one mission, he could be rich enough to spend the rest of his life on a small island full of beautiful women and countless food and drinking.

A smile suddenly stretched over his lips.

"There's something else." Added the informer, taking the coin purse into the pocket of his long jacket.

"What is it?"

"We need the girl dead."


	2. The Masterpiece

A/N: Rated T for mild language and mild themes.

**Meeting a Dead End**

**_Chapter I -The Masterpiece_**

Since his meeting with the informer, Flynn Rider had been feeling extremely anxious about his encounter with the princess. The promises of glory and gold produced a wonderful feeling of confort in his mind, but his values and his own thoughts made the case look like an act against humanity. Kill the princess. They only wanted her hair.

He didn't understand at first what qualities could a bit of hair have that made half the world look out for it. Of course that the informer didn't bother explaining it either. Rider's only mission was to look out for the girl, kill her, hand her over to those guys and forget about the whole issue.

But Flynn was a thief. He wasn't a cold blood murderer. He couldn't possibly just kill the princess and hand her over to those thugs. Could he? Well, he swore that he could do anything for money...

He did ask the informer: "Why dead?" but the man didn't reply. Then he asked "Why the...hair?" and the man didn't say a word. Why the hell would someone want just a bunch of hair? And why the hell would someone _kill_ for hair?

Those were questions that Flynn knew he wouldn't see answered for a long time. He just had to chose wether he was going to accomplish that mission or not.

However, he didn't even know the girl. Yes, killing someone was awful, even for Flynn Rider, but if he didn't know her, he wouldn't feel horrible when he killed her... would he?

Of course he would, even if he never met her, she was a human being. Even if she was ugly, cruel or dumb, he had no right to kill her. And for God's sake... she was only eighteen. Perhaps the girl didn't even know that there was a famous thieves' guild that wanted to see her dead.

And only...for her hair. Why was her hair so special? Why couldn't he just cut it off and bring it to them?

Why did they want the Lost Princess dead?

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><p>With careful, fluid movements, Rapunzel started outlining her new masterpiece. Pascal, as always, rested on her shoulder, protected by her thick and luscious hair. He too was curious about Rapunzel's new artwork, one that she had been planning for the past month. He knew that she was going to break her own boundaries and risk a style that she had never tried before; her colour selection was awkward, as if she was trying on purpose to discard every art notion that she ever heard about, chosing a range of paint that was either depressing or too bright. The lineart, normally smooth and sweet had a strange edginess to it, as if it mirrored anger and other dark feelings that normally Rapunzel never felt.<p>

On the other hand, Pascal knew why Rapunzel was so angry. Although she loved her mother to death, she couldn't accept the fact that she didn't offer her daughter more freedom. Since the last few weeks they had major arguments which normally ended with Rapunzel bursting in tears and her mother shattering plates, cups and anything _breakable_ around the tower. But in the end, they would stop being angry with each other and enter that love-hate cycle that had always been part of their lives.

Of course Pascal knew that the witch wasn't Rapunzel's true mother. When Rapunzel, as a baby, was kidnapped from her room in the Castle, Pascal managed to jump into the old lady's pocket and watch the princess for eighteen years, always hiding from her _mother._ In the beginning, Pascal tried very hard to return to the kingdom and warn the authorities about the witch's identity, but as the time passed he realized that the woman wasn't mean or cruel towards Rapunzel and instead treated her like a real daughter, spoiling her with gifts, love and affection.

So he let the time fly by, and when he noticed, Rapunzel was almost eighteen years old.

"So... Pascal, what do you think?" the girl asked, looking at her small pet cameleon.

Pascal looked at the outline of her _masterpiece: _A girl with beautiful long hair was sitting on the edge of a window, a small bag on her hand. On the left side of the wall, Rapunzel's mother, with tear-filled eyes, waved goodbye. There was a smile on both of their faces, but the girl's was unhumanly wide.

"It's not so bad" she said, smirking. "Pascal, I know that after this, mother will let me leave. I just know it! When she is in the right mood, she will let me go. And you will go with me Pascal, and we'll see with our own eyes the world that we've read about on all those books" she pointed towards her bookshelf, packed with enormous and thick-paged books that contained all kind of adventure, romance and beautiful illustrations about the world out there.

Pascal squeaked. Rapunzel frowned.

"What? Of course we will have plenty of food and water. Someone will offer us somewhere to live..."

Pascal squeaked again, this time with a hopeless tone.

"You mean we'll have to work? Work to... pay for food? Why, I've never heard about such nonsense before!"

There was no remedy to that girl, Pascal knew. Books only portrayed life's best parts, life's best feelings. Rapunzel had never heard about poverty, despair or death. Rapunzel didn't even know that sometimes, people get sick and are able to die from that illness. Rapunzel didn't know that sometimes, men are cruel enough to kill other men or to hurt women in the most awful ways.

Rapunzel only believed in the most beautiful side of life because that was everything she had ever heard about. And that's why Pascal was afraid of seeing her climb out of that tower.

"Pascal, why can't you approach things without all that pessimism? We'll be fine on our own out there."

And when she finished saying this, she lifted her brush and stepped back in order to admire her artwork.

She thought the vision was priceless, but suddenly Pascal felt scared about her mother's reaction.

If Pascal ever had second thoughts about Rapunzel's mother's identity, he had no doubts now: she was accurately portrayed as a witch, with grey hair and a wrinkled face. The smile on her face showed love but the way her bony hands curled on her lap and her old crimson red fell on her thin shoulders gave Pascal the chills.

"Can you understand the picture, Pascal? Here, I show mother that even if I go explore the world, I will always come back visiting her, even when she gets wrinkly and adorable."

Pascal thought why didn't Rapunzel portray herself as an older woman, but he suddenly understood that Rapunzel was too innocent to even think about being old. Perhaps she thought, that with all that energy and curiosity, she was going to be young forever.

"It's genious, isn't it? This is the best way to show mother that I will love her forever!"

Pascal closed is eyes. Of course it wasn't genious. It was a terrible, terrible idea. The artwork Rapunzel thought pictured pure innocence would be the most outrageous thing she could show her mother: Gothel had done everything in her power to stop her aging, including kidnapping the princess herself to be young forever and now Rapunzel literally throwed that fact in her face.

If only the girl knew the truth.

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><p>A shadow lurked in the corner of the room. Gothel approached the cloaked man and pulled her hood up so that it covered her dark, thick hair.<p>

"Did he accept the mission?" she asked in a slow seducing voice. The man bitterly smiled and the corners of his thin mouth wrinkled with the effort of the smile.

"He did" he replied and offered her a dark, crimson liquor. She didn't accept the drink, slowly touching the long, pointy knife that was hidden under her cloak. Gothel knew that that kind of men would do anything to see her dead. As a powerful witch, she was able to move mountains and switch the flow of entire rivers. She was feared and fear made people do unimaginable things. Fear made people want Gothel dead because there wasn't anything as dangerous as being in a Wild Witch's dark list.

"And will he do it?"

"He didn't say at first, my lady. He was surprised about the hair."

Gothel frowned impatiently "I told you to make sure he would kill the girl."

"I am pretty sure he will, my lady. Flynn Rider would do anything for money."

Gothel didn't answer back. Rapunzel needed to be dead. Now that she was turning eighteen, her healing powers would slowly start to decay and wouldn't be able to stop her aging anymore. She knew that if she cut the girl's hair, it would be impossible to take the healing power from it, since it would turn brown and lose its magical qualities.

But Gothel knew best. Gothel knew that Rapunzel's power didn't only live in her hair but also in her blood. As a witch, she was able to detect the magic that flowed in her veins, the wonderful ability that Rapunzel was born with.

When Rapunzel's body started to age, her power would also age since she wouldn't have enough physical vitality to endure such magic. It was magic that even overcome Gothel's powers and Gothel was a very powerful witch.

So the girl needed to be dead. From her blood, Gothel would be able to produce an elixir or potion that would last for centuries beyond count and reassure her youth. If Rapunzel was killed in her twenties or thirties, her magic wouldn't be as powerful. If Gothel collected the power from a young blood, the magic would last forever and never dim.

She smiled. "I hope you're telling the truth. You know you have a great prize waiting."

"Yes, I do" said the man, smiling. Gothel promised him a flask of such elixir.

"And the thief needs to be rewarded too. I have the money if he succeeds and promises to be silent about the issue."

"Yes, I told him that the girl is more valuable than a hundred crowns."

"She is" said Gothel "If I were ever to sell that potion we would be rich beyond count."

But she wouldn't, because she wanted Rapunzel's magic abilities all for herself.

And if all her calculations were correct, Rapunzel's power was enough to make Gothel live forever.


	3. Forced Freedom

_A/N: Thank you for all your support and feedback. It's wonderful to know that people are liking this story so far. I also want to thank all the an__onymous reviewers, since I've no way to show them my gratitude through PM'ing._  
><em>Since many writers (including myself, in the past) frequently leave stories behind, mostly because they lack feedback, I would like to reassure you that I plan to finish this fic. I love writing and I love receiving feedback, even when negative, but most of all I love my readers and hate to leave them on a hang-cliff when they feel so attached to something I write.<em>

_Enjoy the chapter~_

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><p><strong>Meeting a Dead End<strong>

**_Chapter II - Forced Freedom_**

"Here she comes!" exclaimed Rapunzel when she saw her mother's figure advancing towards the tower. Running towards the small window, Rapunzel managed to throw down the big length of her hair in order to pull her mother up. The girl could see her mother's smile even from above when she gripped the rope of golden hair and was pulled up by the girl.

Pascal frowned when he saw the witch's small feet touching the tower's floor. Gothel had said she would go to a farm near the kingdom in order to cure a farmer's child that had contracted the flu. But her feet were completely clean, as if she had never touched the muddy land that surrounded the kingdom's farms.

"My day was exhausting, darling" she said sitting on a small bench near the mirror. Then she saw the big curtain that had been lifted on the other side of the room, covering an entire wall. She frowned at that.

"What's that, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel knew that her mother only called her by that name when she was suspicious or close enough to start screaming. She managed a reassuring smile and walked towards Gothel, taking her hands.

"Mother, I've painted something for you. I am sure you will like it."

"Rapunzel, you know mother doesn't have your sense for the arts. You know I'll let you draw anything anywhere but please don't tire me with such observations."

The girl was not turned down by that comment. "Mother, I've painted it specially for you. Just look at it, will you?"

Gothel sighed and looked at her daughter's adorable face.

"I have something to tell you, Rapunzel."

The blonde's smile suddenly vanished. She hated to hear that tone. Specially when it was preceded by a sigh.

"...What?"

"Mother has made a hard decision" Gothel rose from her chair and started walking in circles. "I know you are anxious to leave this tower and to see the world out there for yourself. So, after much thinking, I've decided to let you go."

Rapunzel didn't move. She just stood there, absorbing her mother's words as if she didn't really understand them. Then, completely confused, she repeated: "...What?"

"Rapunzel, I know you think I can be overprotective sometimes... But you know it's for your own good. I only want to protect you. Well... I only_ wanted_ to protect you."

Rapunzel, who had been waiting for those words for a long time, felt her heart drop to her feet. Her mother wouldn't even fight? That was it? After so much work and so much planning, after all the time she spent on that one masterpiece her mother decided to let her go without even _looking at it?_

By that time, Pascal knew that something was very wrong. He knew that Gothel would never let Rapunzel leave that tower with the risk of being discovered by the kingdom's guards. She would never let go the power that brought back her youth.

"So... you think I'm responsible enough to go?"

"Yes, my dear, and I won't even go with you. The world is yours and I'm sure you'll be alright."

"_I'm sure you'll be alright." Mother was never sure about me being alright, even when I spent so many years locked in this tower. _

"You mean you'll let me go completely unprotected?"

Gothel sighed again and covered her face with her hands.

"My flower, don't make this harder than it already is. Mother has decided to let you go. You'll be alright, you'll see."

Rapunzel was astonished. She never even thought about the possibility of her plan being successful. Now she was offered complete freedom. And she didn't even know where she would start.

"Then I guess I will just go for a few days. I wasn't prepared for these news, mother" she laughed nervously "I still have to think about what I need to see. There are so many places in the entire world that it will be hard to chose-"

"You'll have plenty of time to see them all, Rapunzel." Gothel said, looking at her daughter.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I am letting you go forever. You don't have to come back."

Rapunzel felt suddenly shocked. The idea of leaving that tower forever was horrible. She felt suddenly attached to those sloppy, tilted rooms, to the floor tiles that lifted in strategic places; she felt attached to the numerous walls and furniture that were covered up with her paintings, to her book shelves and to the beautiful princess-like bed where she slept in every night and dreamed about her future life.

And she didn't want to leave it all. Not for some unknown world.

"Mother, I love this place. I can't leave forever. I want to come back. I love you mother."

With those words, Rapunzel suddenly burst out in tears. She ran to her mother and hugged her tightly, afraid to lose her forever. That seducing image of freedom was not so seducing anymore. She wanted to leave but not forever. It was her home. It had been her home for eighteen years.

Gothel didn't hug her child. She delicately grabbed Rapunzel's shoulders and stepped back.

"Rapunzel, you will be eighteen soon. You are a grown lady now. Out there there are marvelous things that you should discover. And I know you're old enough now to defend and protect yourself. If I went with you, you wouldn't earn as much maturity as you will if you go by yourself."

"But mother, why can't I come back?"

"Because this tower, my flower, can't offer you the life you dream about. This place only contains dreams and childhood fantasies. If you want to be everything you dreamed about, you have to go out there and win your place in that world."

Rapunzel looked at her mother's face, blinded with the tears. She didn't even think about what her mother said. She didn't even thought about if it made sense or not. She just knew that she loved her mother but also loved her freedom. And if her mother wanted her to go, she would obey and go.

"I will leave, mother."

Gothel smiled.

"I'm glad that's your decision, my dear."

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><p>Flynn Rider knew he was close enough to the tower but it was just too hard to find out where it was. He had been patrolling the area for the past hour but couldn't find the entrance to the valley that the informer had mentioned. It was incredible to think that he had been in that place so many times and never even dreamed about being so close to the Lost Princess.<p>

It was also freaking hard to take a decision about the girl. Killing her, not killing her... killing her, not killing her. According to some philosophical theories, some humans were not necessary in the world. Perhaps killing her would not harm anyone in particular and well... it would surely contribute to his particular happiness.

Other philosophical theories said that everyone was necessary in the world and everyone should contribute to a major cause which was the world's balance... so perhaps that girl was necessary, after all. And well... if that was the case, he shouldn't kill her.

But, what about his own philosophy? His own idea about the issue?

Well, in Flynn's mind he thought that-

Oh. He never really _thought_ about the issue from his _own _point of view.

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><p>For Rapunzel, going out of the comfort of her tower meant being kicked into the wilderness, a place where lions, monsters and other horrible beasts lurked in the shadows, waiting to take a bite out of her. With that in mind, she found out that it was incredibly difficult to decide which of her belongings she would take on her journey. She wouldn't take her brushes and the paint, although it was painful to leave them behind. She couldn't take her books also, the great classics that took hours and hours of her life and filled her with joy and tears in the end. She would have to leave everything behind: her guitar, her candle-making kits, her chess board, her puzzles, darts, pencils, notebooks, jewelery-<p>

Why couldn't she take everything with her?

"At least you will come with me, Pascal" she sighed, looking at her friendly pet-chameleon.

Pascal smiled reassuringly but he was feeling too scared about the situation. It was not leaving the tower that was making him frown; it was the fact that Gothel, after so many years trapping Rapunzel in that loving mother-daughter relationship suddenly decided to release her, telling her to never come back. Pascal knew that Gothel had something up in her sleeve: she would never let her _flower_ go to the world out there without protection.

"What do you think I will need, Pascal?"

The chameleon pointed towards Rapunzel silver brush that was by far the object that she most used around the house. She giggled and took it into her purse.

"You're right. That's something I will definitely need" her smile was sad. She hated to leave everything behind; all the memories, the laughter and the joy that she felt while spending most of her time between those walls, dreaming about the outside world. But she was also happy about leaving, meeting the world that awaited for her.

"But mother won't be there" she whispered and suddenly, sensing she was about to burst with her own contradictory feelings, Rapunzel started to cry. She didn't want to go. Did she? Mother had been a wonderful, wonderful mother; she raised her, nursed her and took after her for eighteen years. Mother never beat her or yelled at her or had been angry for more than a couple of hours. Mother pampered her and spoiled her like a little princess and gave her everything she asked, satisfying the most tiny and insignificant whims that Rapunzel had developed through life. And after all of that, Rapunzel would go, leaving her Mother alone in that place.

But she had to. That was the only thing that Mother ever asked of Rapunzel. If that was her wish, Rapunzel would grant it. A last wish before she would turn eighteen.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. With a determined tone, she addressed Pascal:

"I think we'll need a raincoat. It will probably rain out there."


	4. Meeting

A/N: Hope you enjoy it. And don't forget to review ;)

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><p><strong>Meeting a Dead End<strong>

_**Chapter III – The Promise**_

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><p>Flynn Rider wasn't the kind of man that thought about his future. He didn't truly believe about fate or destiny, issues that made wise men endure sleepless nights. He only knew that there were immutable things in life and when <em>those<em> changed, he would have to start feeling worried. Other than that, he went where the river flowed, following an unstable and capricious path – no goals, no objectives or expectations. He was ready to take in what life was willing to offer him (which, sometimes was more than he would have ever wished for). With that thought in mind, he roamed the kingdom of Corona and tried to banish all thought from his mind, erasing disturbance, trouble and conflicts that otherwise would make him like those wise men – sleepless, wrinkly and old.

And Flynn Rider didn't want to be old. That would seriously damage his otherworldly good looks.

So, for the day, he was quite content to acknowledge that he didn't consider his _problem_ a problem anymore. Forcing himself to think about the simple things of life, he watched with splendor the wildlife that grew prosperous in the forest – birds flapping their wings with joy, slowly building their nests so to continue the marvelous circle of life; the cute little bunnies that hopped through the bushes, looking at him with surprise through those lovable chocolate eyes. Oh, the sky was so richly blue and the grass felt so soft under his fingers!

And then he saw golden hair.

He wasn't sure about it at first. He thought he had caught a reflection or a glimpse of a golden-furred little animal. But as he approached it cautiously he understood that it was _hair._

Hair.

He slowly followed it, like a detective follows the criminal's tracks, never daring to touch it as if some ancestral wizardry could burst from it. And after a few seconds, a sudden realization hit him like a punch between his eyes.

_The hair didn't end._

Well, it did end. But, unexpectadly, as Flynn moved forward, he realized that the hair curved slightly and as he followed its curve he found out that it was actually coming from behind him.

He turned around, and as he did, he yelled and then fell to the ground.

It was a girl. A girl with luscious, golden hair. She was tiny, as if she was made from glass or porcelain and her bones could shatter if he held her. Her feet were bare and they looked soft and her toes curled in the grass with joy, as if she was feeling its touch for the first time. And when Flynn noticed her green eyes, green like the grass that curled under her toes, she spoke; and her voice, unlike her frail figure, was determined and confident and wonderful but Flynn couldn't spend much time alone with those thoughts because his day-dream was shattered by the words she spoke.

"Stand back, thug!"

Flynn saw with amusement the girl raising a frying pan, pointing the object towards his nose.

"I am not a thug" effortlessly he lowered the frying pan and shove it aside. The object landed with a loud _thump!_ and rolled to a bush nearby. She frowned and gripped her hair, holding to it as if she held a whip and stepped back. Her eyes never left his, afraid to lose the track of his movements.

"Girl, lower your weapon. Your hair." He corrected. "I don't want to hurt you."

She did lower her hair, letting it fall to the ground. Her feet, that seconds ago curled with delight in the grass, now held to ground like solid roots.

_I don't want to hurt you._

"Are you... are you..." yes, she was. She must be the Lost Princess; Flynn understood that just by looking at the otherworldly amount of hair that fell down her shoulders. They were looking for that waterfall of golden hair, that endless, thick curtain that cast a seducing shadow on her face, turning her green eyes even brighter. And he didn't want to hurt her; he_ couldn't _possible hurt her. Who would even think about laying a finger in such wonderful creature?

"Am I...?" she didn't sound scared now. She looked at him with a strange expression, one of curiosity and amusement. Flynn noticed that something green hovered above her shoulder, hidden in the shadows of her hair.

He shrugged.

"I'm Flynn Rider" stepping forward he took her hand in his and delicately planted a kiss on the back of her hand; a mere gesture of cordiality that still arose all of his senses, from the delicacy of her skin's perfume to the softness of her fingers against his hard callouses. She was young, much more young than he thought. Probably sixteen or seventeen; barely old enough to understand the roughness of life. Barely old enough to understand what he was feeling right now, as he touched her hand.

"I'm Rapunzel" her words were cautious "You aren't a thug?"

Confused and taken aback, Flynn stepped backwards, now regretting the cruelty of kissing her hand and be rewarded with such words.

"No, blondie. I am not a thug. As I've said before-"

"You're Flynn Rider, yes" she opened her satchel and retrieved a folded piece of paper that she proceded on opening. It was his wanted poster; his nose was painfully stretched in the drawing but his smirk, the wonderful expression that characterized him still lingered on those horrid artistic lines. "These are scattered all around the forest. They say you're a thief... a thief is no different from a thug, I believe."

He sighed and silently wished for patience.

"Actually, thugs and thieves are very different. You see, blondie, thieves' crimes are solely based on-"

Rapunzel laughed "You don't have to explain yourself, _Flynn Rider"_ she underlined those words with a sarcastic, cheerful tone. "Well, are you going to _steal_ me?"

He felt a knot form on his throat. The simple thought of insulting her hurt him. It was hard to even think about killing her! Just thinking about life leaving that vivid, happy girl, a last sigh of hope escaping her throat, promises of dreams never conquered, thoughts of a love never known, of children never born, of a life never lived. He hardly thought about the consequences of his actions but now he felt terribly aware of them; his own conscience lurked in the shadows, waiting to devour him. _It all stands on the edge of a knife. If I don't kill her, I'll have to escape and never return to this place. And if I don't kill her someone will do it in my place. It all stands on the edge of a knife. It all stands on the edge of a-_

_That's it._

"Now that you mention it, yes: I am going to kidnap you" Flynn advanced towards the girl and swiftlyremoved a rope from his belt throwing the lasso around her, firmly tightening it around her wrists and waist. Rapunzel, completely surprised and taken aback, started kicking and punching the air, her screams echoing throught the vast, empty forest.

"Shush now, blondie" his voice wasn't harsh nor rude. He spoke with a strange gentleness and yet firmly. "We'll do this my way or your way: If you want I'll carry you on my shoulder like a sack of potatoes but I give you the choice of coming willingly. For that you will not scream nor fight back: You will talk to me, as if we were partners: the difference lies on the fact that you're my hostage now."

"Of course I will not go willingly!" she fell to the floor, pushing away from him, pulling tirelessly at the ropes that tied her wrists together "Let me go!"

_It's my only choice: the only way to lead her to safety. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to get us passage across the country. I'll find her a good home, a good family and then I'll have to run away. They will always keep searching from me. It's a lifetime contract - in the most horrific, literal way possible._

"Why do you even need me?"

"I-" Flynn hesitated. Did the girl know she was the lost princess? She couldn't know of the danger she was in- if she did she wouldn't walk around with only a frying pan for a weapon and approach strangers so carelessly. No, she didn't look dumb; Unfortunantely she didn't look dumb or cruel and definitely not ugly – which transformed his newly acquired decision into a life-threatening situation. But he couldn't leave her there – when he looked at her he couldn't stop from reminding himself of the other girls in the orphanage; the ones that looked up to him as a father figure, admiring him for his intelligence, cleverness and his charismatic personality, that always had a way with people. And blondie was like those girls; she was young, very young. Ten or nine years younger then him. It was clear in her eyes that she didn't know anything about life or about the people that could hurt her for what she was – as the Lost Princess or even as a beautiful young woman. She was innocent and naïve and had been that way for her entire life. So Flynn could do only one thing.

He needed to lie.

"I need your hair."

She grasped her hair instantly and horror was reflected upon her face "No... Don't do that to me."

"That hair" he said while dragging her to her feet "is worth millions. And I need it. You'll come with me. I just need your hair. I promise."

"NO!" she pulled away from him, hitting the floor on her back. Flynn hissed a curse and knelt to pull her into his arms but she kicked him in the knee, and although her feet were bare, Flynn could hear the sound of something breaking and a horrible pain flooding up his leg. He slid to the ground, groaning, and a pale spindle of light burned in his head when his injured knee met the solid ground. He couldn't see anything or hear anything – he was too focused on mentally trying to relieve the pain to alert the other senses.

"Shit" he groaned, trying to touch his knee "Are your feet made of steel?"

"I-"

"Just shut up" his admiration for the girl was gone; he only thought about his injured knee and the fact that he needed to get out of that forest. "That was not even smart. Your hands are tied – you can't run away. You don't even know the way out of this forest. My leg's broken and I can't get both of us out of here."

"I-I'm so-"

"You're not sorry, don't bluff" he finally managed to lift his head and look at her. Her green eyes were moist and there was a particular cute redness on her nose. His own sense was thinning now that pain overflooded all the other parts of his brain. He could only focus on being alive and keep himself from starting to cry in front of a seventeen-year old.

"I can heal you" she suddenly said but her words sounded distant and echoed in Flynn's head like a day-dream. He felt like his mind was composed of great drifts and smoky whisps.

"Your hands are tied. My leg is broken. You cannot heal me."

"I can. If you untie me, I will heal you."

Flynn managed a laugh.

"Don't tease me" he barked. "I'm dying here in pain. You'll run away as soon as I untie you. Try to have more respect."

Rapunzel frowned "I will heal you. I promise I will."

"Blondie, you just broke my knee! How valuable are your promises for me?"

"They're worth the value you offer them. Besides, I never break a promise."

Well, what choice did he have? They were both bound to die there if they didn't do anything.

"Alright. But please don't get any ideas."


End file.
